


Inconvenient Fireworks

by janewestin



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:43:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janewestin/pseuds/janewestin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after the events of Chapter 4 of my story Waiting For the Sun, but you don't have to read that one to read this one. Jubilee has grown up. This is just straight-up fluff, people. Also, song lyrics are from Stray Italian Greyhound, by Vienna Teng. Check her out. She's amazing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inconvenient Fireworks

_But you had to come along, didn't you_

_Tear down the doors, throw open windows_

_Oh, if you knew just what a fool you have made me_

_So what do I do with this?_

 

 

When the plane lands, Jubilee finds that she can't get up. She's drained, suddenly, unable to muster the energy even to pick up her equipment.

 

"Come on, kid." Suddenly there are hands under her arms, and Logan is lifting her.

 

"You're not gonna carry me," she says, finding her feet.

 

"Wasn't planning on it." He puts his arm around her shoulders. "You okay?"

 

She nestles under his leather jacket. "I'm okay."

 

"Yeah," he says. "Me too." But he doesn't sound okay, and she thinks that probably she doesn't either. He watched Jean disappear last time, and he's told Jubilee about it: how her body was ablaze with cosmic energy, how her eyes were wide and insane. _Like she wasn't Jean any more,_ he'd said, and it made Jubilee sick to think about it.

 

She threads her thumb through his belt loop, reassured by his solid warmth against her. They walk off the plane in silence.

 

Jubilee is relieved when Logan turns left instead of right in the upstairs hallway. It took him a while to figure out why she kept showing up at his room after missions, but he got it after the fifth time he moved to the couch and let her have the bed. Now he leaves his door open when they get home.

 

"You made the bed," she says, when they get to his room.

 

"Don't get used to it." He strips off his shirt and goes into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked.

 

She takes off her socks and throws them into the hamper. Sits on the floor cross-legged, so she won't mess up the furniture with her filthy clothes. She finds a months-old issue of _Maxim_ on the floor and flips through it until she hears the water turn off.

 

He comes out of the bathroom a moment later, a towel wrapped around his waist. "All yours."

 

She scrambles to her feet. "Thanks."

 

Under the hot spray of the water, she lets herself cry.

 

Logan is on the couch watching TV when she comes back into the bedroom. He looks up. Something flickers in his expression when he sees her.

 

"C'mere," he says gruffly, holding out his hand.

 

She does, wrapping his bathrobe tighter around herself and dropping onto the couch next to him.

 

"She'll be okay," Logan says, and his hand is warm on her back.

 

Jubilee nods, feeling her eyes fill, feeling her chest tighten. "I know," she whispers.

 

"Sorry," she says, when she's cried herself out.

 

He pats her shoulder. "Don't be."

 

She pulls away, puts her feet on the ottoman next to his. He turns up the TV.

 

"Shit could be worse," she says at one point, halfway through _Hoarders_.

 

"That many rabbits...yeah, it could be."

 

They watch TV for another hour, then Logan taps her foot with his. "You hungry?"

 

She stretches, yawns. Realizes that she's _starving._ "Yeah," she says. "Donahue's?"

 

"Sure."

 

"I'll get dressed." She stands. On her way to her room, she thinks _This can't be normal._ Saturday night, and after killing half a dozen people, she should be going out drinking with the girls. Or picking up a hot guy at the bar and tumbling into bed with him. Instead, as always, she's got a date with someone who's...what, exactly?

 

She's not sure there's a definition for what they have. Friends? Yes, certainly, but it runs deeper than that, like an underground river beneath one on the surface. It was a thousand years ago that she found him in the Australian outback, and although it's his pet name for her still, she really _was_ a kid then. They've spent long stretches of time apart -- she went to college, then medical school, then four years of residency -- but they always find each other. Always. She knows he's the reason her longest relationship was less than two years: they never measure up, those boyfriends. They never know her like Logan does.

 

It would be easier if she was in love with him. But he's...too close, or something. She loves him, sure, but she doesn't let herself think of him that way. Besides, although he hasn't aged -- will probably never age, he's like a damn vampire -- and she's pushing thirty, that gap is still there. She imagines it'd be pretty gross to have sex with someone who grounded you as an eighth-grader, yelled at you for smoking in high school, drove you to the mall before you got your own license.

 

She pulls on a fresh T-shirt and jeans and stuffs her wallet into her back pocket. When she gets to Logan's room, he's lacing up his boots.

 

"Ready?" she asks.

 

"Yeah." He picks up his keys.

 

She usually takes her own bike, but she feels like riding with him, so she leaves hers in the basket. He puts his arm around her as they walk to the garage.

 

The bar is surprisingly empty for a Saturday night. He orders a Heineken and a burger and so does she.

 

"No veggie crap today?" Logan asks.

 

"Veggie crap is for days when we don't fight lunatics," Jubilee says primly. "I'm hungry."

 

She demolishes the burger and all the fries too. She'll regret it later, probably, but _man_ it's nice to eat real food after a scuffle.

 

"Hey Jube." He sounds serious, but Jubilee doesn't think much of it: he sounds serious, like, eighty percent of the time.

 

"Hey what." She drags the nubbin of a fry through the remains of her ketchup and eats it, then searches under the grease-stained basket lining for another.

 

When he doesn't say anything, she looks up. "I said, hey what," she says again.

 

He's looking at her with the oddest expression on his face. "I got the check," he says, after a moment.

 

She shrugs. "Okay."

 

On the way back to the Mansion, he makes a sudden detour.

 

"Hey," Jubilee yells, patting his side. "Where ya going?"

 

"Fire tower," he yells back.

 

Oh. Okay.

 

They climb to the top -- six flights of rickety metal stairs -- and sit on the landing, legs dangling over the side.

 

"This thing is going to disintegrate and kill somebody someday," Jubilee says, picking at flaking metal on the railing. He doesn't usually bring her here -- he comes alone, sometimes, when he has bad days.

 

"Hopefully not today." Logan leans back on his hands.

 

Jubilee flicks pieces of metal into the air and _pafs_ them with tiny plasma bursts on their way to the ground.

 

"My eyes aren't so good for this any more," she says after a moment.

 

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Logan sounds distracted. "It's dark."

 

"Not crazy about this _getting old_ thing," Jubilee says. "You're a lucky bastard."

 

He snorts. "Right."

 

"I'm gonna be eighty, decrepit, demented, you'll still have a six-pack and be pinging off the walls."

 

"Let's not talk about that," he says.

 

She curls her hands into claws and makes her best Cryptkeeper face. "Loooogan," she creaks. "Bring me my blood pressure medicine."

 

"I mean it." He's frowning. "Quit."

 

She sticks out her tongue. "Prune juice, Looooooooogan," she says again, and that's when he grabs her head and kisses her.

 

It's over before she can even react, let alone think about kissing him back. She catches his eye for a split second before he turns away.

 

She can't speak for a moment. When she finds her voice, it sounds strangled and unfamiliar.

 

"The fuck was that?" she demands.

 

He runs a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

 

" _Sorry?_ " She punches him hard on the arm. "You dick."

 

"Sorry," he says again.

 

"Jesus Christ." Jubilee gets to her feet. Kicks him in the hip, for good measure.

 

"Ow." He rubs his hip and glares at her. "What the hell, Jube."

 

"What the hell your own damn self." Jubilee stomps all the way around the tower, half hoping the fucker will collapse so they'll have something else to focus on besides this horrible awkward -- whatever this is. When she gets back to Logan, he's standing.

 

"Home," she says. "Now."

 

"Yeah," he says, not looking at her.

 

She's so angry she doesn't even touch him when they get on the bike. Three minutes into the ride, he pulls over, grabs her hands, and puts them on his waist.

 

"Hold on," he says.

 

She does, wordlessly. As soon as they're home, she jumps off the bike, puts her hands at her sides, and shoots into the air.

 

"Jube," she hears him yell.

 

"Fuck off," she yells back.

 

She flies to the lake and drops heavily to the ground. Lies flat on her back in the grass and stares up at the stars.

 

"Goddamn it," she says out loud. " _Goddamn_ it." Because she and Logan have a good thing, a really really good thing. It's the best thing she's ever had if she really thinks about it, she's closer to him than she is to _herself_ , practically, and now he had to go and make it _weird._ Really, really fucking weird. Why did he do that, anyway? He's never shown any inkling of wanting to...be _with_ her. Never. And it's weird.

 

Isn't it?

 

She chews on her lip and tries to sort through her feelings about him. He's old, sure, and she hasn't had as much therapy as Marie but she's pretty sure she doesn't have any father-figure issues or whatever with him. So that's good. But being with him? Kissing him? No. No can do. He's her best friend in the entire world, she loves him more than Kitty or Marie or anyone from school, and you don't do that with your best friend. You don't do that, but he did it, and _fuck_ what will she do without him? Because they certainly can't go back to what they were, now.

 

She sits up because she suddenly remembers that it's summer and there are probably no-see-ums chomping at her skin. Gross.

 

_I gotta talk to Jean,_ she thinks, and then she remembers that Jean is gone and that hurts all over again. _Everything_ hurts.

 

She gets up and walks back to the Mansion. Slowly. She doesn't want to run into Logan, so she flies up to Marie's window and knocks on it with her foot.

 

Marie opens it, looking pale-faced and rumpled.

 

"You scared the bejeesus out of me," Marie says, stepping back so Jubilee can tumble in. "What are you doing?"

 

"Avoiding Logan." Jubilee stands and brushes herself off.

 

Marie raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

 

"Oh, indeed." Jubilee sits down in Marie's armchair and pulls her legs up underneath her.

 

"Don't put your shoes on the furniture," Marie reminds her.

 

Jubilee kicks off her sneakers. "Sorry."

 

"I heard about Jean." Marie looks somber. "Do you think -- "

 

"Let's not talk about it, okay?" Jubilee says, immediately feeling tears in her eyes at the mention of Jean's name. "I can't -- "

 

"Okay," Marie says quickly. She looks around, grabs a Snickers sitting on her desk, and tosses it to Jubilee. "Sorry. Here."

 

Jubilee catches it. "Thanks." She swallows hard, takes a deep breath, composes herself. "Whatcha doing?"

 

"Writing a grant for this Legacy model," Marie says, moving her laptop to the nightstand and sitting on the bed. "It's stupid, really, they're going to give us funding no matter what the proposal looks like, but they want something on paper. Academics. You know."

 

"Not really." Jubilee unwraps the Snickers and takes a bite. "My research is limited to chart reviews and IRB forms."

 

"Can we not talk about work?" Marie says. "What's going on with Logan?"

 

Jubilee grimaces and swallows. "Ugh. So weird and awkward. So. Weird. And. Awkward."

 

"What is?" Marie says.

 

"I can't even -- " Jubilee puts the Snickers in her lap and flaps her hands as though she's trying to shake off water. "It's so weird I can't even."

 

"Oh my God, Jubilation, seriously, spit it out."

 

"He -- " Jubilee feels her face heat up and covers her eyes with her hands. "Kissed me on my mouth," she says in a rush.

 

Marie starts to laugh.

 

Jubilee slaps the armrest in frustration. "It's not funny."

 

"I'm sorry." Marie takes a breath and presses her lips together. "It's just that -- a hot guy kisses you and you're upset about it."

 

"He's not hot and you don't get it," Jubilee says, scowling.

 

"I do get it and yes he is too hot, but that's beside the point." Marie stretches her legs out and smiles. "You've known him for what, twenty years?"

 

"Seventeen," Jubilee mutters.

 

"And he's your best friend."

 

"Yeah. Kind of."

 

"There's no _kind of_ ," Marie says. "You two are practically attached at the hip. Bad news for the rest of us, remember freshman year of college?" She smiles, and Jubilee knows she's referring to the two years of resentful silence between them because Marie _loved_ Logan and consequently hated Jubilee.

 

"Oh, I remember." Jubilee looks away. "I'm still sorry about that."

 

"Pfft." Marie waves a hand. "Ancient history, it wouldn't have worked out anyway, for obvious reasons. But."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"All I'm saying is it's not like it's news. The only thing that surprises me is that it took him this long."

 

"What do you mean _this long,_ he drove me around when I was a kid, it's gross." Jubilee makes a face.

 

Marie tilts her head to one side. "It's a little gross," she concedes. "It'd be grosser if he aged like a normal person. He still looks thirty-five."

 

" _Chronologically --_ "

 

"Chronologically," Marie interrupts, "there is no woman who's age-appropriate, since he's older than a sea turtle. You're _thirty._ Ask yourself how old you'd have to be to make it okay."

 

Jubilee pauses. "Good point." Then she makes a face. " _Almost_ thirty, please let me have the next three months."

 

"Whatever." Marie raises a hand like a priest giving a benediction. "You have my go-ahead," she says. "Thumbs up. I mean, if you want to."

 

"Do I want to?" Jubilee doesn't mean to ask it out loud.

 

"Grasshopper, I can't answer that one." Marie picks up her laptop. "He's hot, he wants you, you're single." She shrugs. "I don't see a problem."

 

"What about you?" Jubilee takes another bite of the Snickers. "I'm sick of talking about me, let's talk about your love life for a while."

 

"What _about_ me?" Marie makes a horrible face at the screen. "It's pretty much nonexistent, currently."

 

"So Rahne -- "

 

" -- and I are not on good terms, currently," Marie says. "Didn't I tell you about how she almost ripped my face off the last time I went to Manhattan?"

 

"You did cheat on her," Jubilee points out.

 

Marie draws herself up. "I did _not_ ," she says indignantly. "We were on a break, first of all, and it was only coffee with that blond girl."

 

Jubilee raises an eyebrow. "Coffee and...hand sex."

 

Marie laughs. "Hand sex? Is that what we're calling it now?"

 

"I don't like the other words for it." Jubilee slumps lower in her chair. "So she's out."

 

"Way out." Marie purses her lips. "It's too bad, really. I didn't have to wear that stupid bodysuit when I slept with her."

 

"When she was a _wolf_ ," Jubilee says, shuddering. "That's just bizarre, it's like bestiality or something."

 

"Don't say that around Hank," Marie says.

 

"Right, oops." Jubilee covers her mouth with her hand. "Speaking of which, Hank's new boyfriend? Bruce the physicist? Talk about _hot._ Smart and sexy. Yum." She waggles her eyebrows.

 

"Wrong tree," Marie says with a grin. "Plus there's that whole Hulk thing to think about."

 

"Yeah, true, big green and snarling, although, you know, I could get into that." She holds her hands eighteen inches apart.

 

"You're disgusting." Marie turns her attention to her laptop. "My advice to you? Quit avoiding him. At the very least, give him a chance to explain himself."

 

"Logan's not so good with words, in case you haven't noticed." Jubilee stands up.

 

"I've noticed," Marie says, "but just because he's not good with words doesn't mean he has nothing to say."

 

"Hmph. We'll see." Jubilee opens the door.

 

"Hey," Marie says.

 

Jubilee stops, hand on the doorknob. "Yeah?"

 

Marie's eyes have gone big and sad. "I'm sorry about Jean," she says.

 

Jubilee swallows hard. "Me too."

 

"She's gonna come back."

 

"Hope so." Jubilee forces a smile. "Later, dude."

 

"'Night, J."

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Jubilee wakes up slowly. Her body is aching all over -- she really should've moved faster when that asshole with all the arms came at her. It's worse where she hit the side of the building. She pulls her T-shirt up to examine the damage: a giant bruise on her left hip, another on her left arm. She rolls her shoulder experimentally. "Ow," she says out loud.

 

She reaches for her phone. Two messages. One from Marie, sent at one in the morning: _ilu btw xoxo_ ; God she loves that girl, how did she get so lucky, friend-wise?

 

One from Logan.

 

_Sorry_ , it says. _Breakfast?_

 

Sent at seven AM. That was over an hour ago.

 

She passes the phone from hand to hand, debating. Finally she texts him back: _u around still?_

 

Not thirty seconds before he responds. _come over_

 

She pulls on socks and pads down the hall. Knocks on his door.

 

He opens it. "Since when do you knock?"

 

She ducks under his arm. "Since you started handing out unsolicited kisses and making shit weird."

 

"Yeah, sorry about that." He closes the door and turns around. He's wearing a tank top and jeans and the veins on his arms are standing out and damn it, why is she noticing that?

 

She folds her arms over her chest, suddenly self-conscious. She never had a second thought, before, about Logan seeing her in pajamas, but now she realizes that he's probably going to care that she isn't wearing a bra.

 

"Hey." He cuffs her lightly on the shoulder. "Firework. You okay?"

 

She scowls and moves out of his reach. "No. You want to explain what was going through that thick skull of yours last night?"

 

"I just -- " He breaks off. "Can we go for a walk?"

 

She'd accuse him of stalling if she didn't know that he's virtually incapable of having a serious conversation indoors. "Fine. I'll be back in five."

 

She's back in three, actually, after changing into shorts and a tank top and the same grubby sneakers she'd been wearing on Genosha yesterday. She brings the bug spray with her, because really, gross.

 

They don't talk until they're on the trail at the edge of the Mansion's property. Then: "So. Explain."

 

Logan sighs. "I shouldn't have done that."

 

"No shit." She shoves her hands in her pockets. "You know that was a game changer."

 

"I know." He kicks a rock out of the path. "I guess I just..." Pause. "You, uh, mean a lot to me, Jube."

 

She feels her heart rate pick up, feels her face flush. "Okay," she says, trying to keep her voice neutral.

 

"I mean..." He clears his throat. "I've never...you're not like anyone I've ever..."

 

He's clearly struggling and she wants to help him, she does, but she also doesn't want to put words in his mouth. So she stays quiet, shuffling beside him with her eyes on the ground.

 

"And I know I shouldn't...you were just a kid when I..." He stops walking. Runs both hands through his hair.

 

Jubilee stops too. Faces him. Makes herself breathe evenly, in and out, in and out. Bites her tongue so she won't interrupt.

 

"The truth is," he says, looking at some point over her shoulder, "I know it's probably...not right...you're really, um, a lot...younger...than me...but..." He turns and starts walking again. "It's just that...Truth is, I kind of, you know..."

 

Jubilee can't take his start-and-stop monologue for one second longer. " _What,_ Logan?" she snaps.

 

"Love you," Logan says.

 

Well, shit.

 

Jubilee wants to follow him, but she suddenly can't move her feet. When she remembers how to walk, she hurries to catch up with him.

 

"What do you mean, you love me?" she says.

 

He drops his head and she hears him sigh. "I mean I love you, what else do you need me to explain?"

 

"You mean you love me like Murtaugh loves Riggs," she persists, "or like Harry loves Sally?"

 

He stops walking long enough to look at her disbelievingly. "You really need to ask that?"

 

"Harry, then," she mutters. Another long pause, then: "How long?"

 

"I don't know, Jube." He sounds resigned, now, almost dejected. "How long you been back home? A year? So maybe...a year before that."

 

"Two years? Two _years?_ " She punches his arm. It's all she can do.

 

He rubs his bicep. "What is it with you and the hitting, kid?"

 

She grabs her head because it's too much, all these thoughts, all these _feelings._ "I can't process this." She scowls and drops her hands. "And if you're going to tell me you love me, you have to stop calling me _kid._ "

 

"Yeah, I guess I do."

 

They walk in silence, Logan shortening his stride to match Jubilee's.

 

"You remember Australia?" she says at last.

 

He snorts. "How could I forget?"

 

A little shrug. "You were pretty sick."

 

"And you were pretty young." He glances at her. "Do _you_ remember?"

 

"'Course." She adopts a snarl and a low growl. "'So, kid, you gonna give a fella a hand, or what?'"

 

"I said that?" He chuckles.

 

"Your first words to me," she says. "Scared me shitless. I wrote it down in my diary."

 

He reaches over, catches her hand, runs his thumb over her knuckles. "You saved my life."

 

"Sure did." She thinks about Logan unconscious, about the trail of blood he left as she dragged him across sun-hardened dirt, and gives his hand an extra squeeze. "Your ass was _heavy._ "

 

"You were a little thing." He tugs her closer and puts his arm across her shoulders.

 

She elbows him in the ribs. "You calling me fat?"

 

"I'm calling you grown up," he says. "I can't believe you remember all that."

 

"You'd be surprised what I remember," she says dryly.

 

He doesn't reply to that, and after a while, she ducks out from under his arm. She quickens her pace a little, pulling ahead of him. He doesn't try to catch up.

 

"Are you a good kisser?" she asks over her shoulder, and that makes him laugh.

 

"I've never had any complaints," he says.

 

"Immaterial." She waves a hand. "You don't file complaints when a man has claws." She stops walking and turns around.

 

He stops too, watches her.

 

"That kiss yesterday," Jubilee says, looking at his mouth. "It was kind of short to evaluate quality."

 

"Was it." His pupils dilate. Just a little.

 

She takes a quick, short breath. Her heart is beating so _fast._ "You could try again, if you wanted," she says levelly.

 

He starts to reach for her and stops. Narrows his eyes. "Do you want me to?" he asks.

 

She steps toward him and they're six inches apart, now, face-to-face, and it occurs to her that in seventeen years they've never stood like this. She's eye level with his lips.

 

Tilting her head back, putting her hands on his waist: "Yeah, Wolvie -- " seeing his breath catch when she uses her old nickname for him -- "I do."

 

"Okay then," he rumbles, and his hands come up to cup her elbows, and he bends down and kisses her.

 

She was right. It's weird. Really, really weird.

 

"But in a good way," she mumbles against his mouth.

 

He pulls back. "What?"

 

She reaches up and puts her hand in his hair, drawing his lips back down to hers. "Nothing," she says, and kisses him again.

 

 


End file.
